


A piece of your history

by Ibijau



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Disabled Character, F/F, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Character, Trauma, fem!Kili, middle earth needs therapists, physical and mental therapists at that, trauma for everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-10-30 00:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10865541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibijau/pseuds/Ibijau
Summary: It was not easy, but all of Thorin's company survived the attack of Azog's armies.Now another fight starts, a more insidious one. A fight to learn how to live with what happened to them.But they know, at least, they can count on one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> please don't hesitate to tell me if you feel some other tags are needed
> 
> I know I should stop starting fics I never seem to finish, but I've finally watched BoFA and the denial was strong in me.

They stood up, taking Thorin’s limp body with them. The honour of carrying him went to Dwalin and Gloin, his kin, almost as noble as him, but Nori follow closely, for a while at least. He was not crying. It always had worried Dori and their mother, how little he cried, and even now his eyes remained dry, no matter how great the heartbreak. There was but little hope, Oin had said, and Nori almost wished there were none at all, so he might start grieving already.

“Wait!” Bilbo cried suddenly, as they were reaching the path down Raven Hill. “The princelings, they are… they were here too, shouldn't someone… I can show you were Fili fell, but I don't know… I didn't see Kili, I don’t know if she’s… she's got to be… somewhere…”

His voice broke and he stared down at his feet, unmoving even when Gandalf put a hand on his shoulder. And it was hard to still resent him, when he hurt as much as they all did, so Nori allowed himself some pity for the halfling.

“I'll go with you,”Nori offered. “Fili isn't so big, I can carry him easily I think.”

“I'm coming too,” Ori pipped. “That way if we find Kili too, they can both be brought back.”

Nori looked at his brother, but the boy refused to meet his eyes. It probably wasn't the princess Ori was most thinking about, but now was not the time to think of romances that never had a chance to be. Ori was indeed strong enough to carry a corpse if it came to it, and nothing else mattered for now. 

Where Bilbo led, they followed, and there they found the prince. Bilbo sobbed and looked away, while Ori froze on the spot, all his courage deserting him as he gazed upon the boy who might have been his lover, had things been other than they were. But Nori could not afford sorrow, not in that moment. He had a duty to Thorin and to fulfill it, he knelt down at the prince's side. 

“Still warm,” he muttered. “Bilbo, how long ago did you say he fell?”

“An hour, maybe more, I'm not sure.”

“And he fell onto snow, too, should be colder than that…”

Nori grabbed a knife from his boot, one not too stained in black blood, and brought it to the prince's mouth. It was faint, but some condensation appeared on the blade, faint but miraculously present. “The boy is still alive.”

These words were enough to break through Ori’s pain, and he ran to Fili’s side, taking his hand, calling his name, even daring to kiss his brow in despair as he promised to save him. More hope to torture them, then, but Nori still sent Bilbo to run after Oin. 

“Keep an eye on him,” he ordered his brother when they were alone. “Since it's a day for miracles, I'll go looking for the other one.”

It was cruel to leave Ori alone with that prince who might die before help could come, and maybe it was improper too, for all he knew. He did not care. He had to know if Kili was still alive somewhere, if Thorin was dying in vain because nothing survived of his family, if Dis would have to mourn everything that was left of her blood. 

It was also an act of selfishness, if he had to be very honest. With each passing minute he felt closer to breaking down and he was too proud to let anyone see that, even his own brother. He didn’t know if he’d ever find Kili, but he’d content himself with a hidden spot where he might wail and scream.

But he wasn't so lucky. He'd barely started searching up a broken tower when he found Kili, lying on the ground in a pool of blood, an elven maid crouched above her, crying. Another fallen one then. But when he took a step closer, the elf maid rose her head, smiling weakly through her tears. 

“She may yet live,” the elf claimed desperately. “I am not a healer by trade, but I know enough to stop the bleeding. If we can get her to someone more skilled…”

Why an elf would bother to heal a dwarf, Nori couldn't understand. Their alliance had only been caused by a common enemy, and with the orcs vanquished, their own war might still resume. Still the elf’s face and long ginger hair was familiar, and at last he recognised Thandruil’s captain of the guards, the one who had already saved Kili once in Esgaroth. Maybe some of these talk bastards were not so bad after all. 

“You have to help me,” the elf pleaded. “I'm too hurt to carry her, my ankle will barely take my own weight… you were with Thorin in the woods, isn't she your princess then? Will you let her die here?”

“I won't have a bloody elf lecture me on what's right. Now move over, can't pick her up if you're all lying on her.”

The elf promptly obeyed, limping away and precariously getting up. She had either told the truth or she was a good actress, because she started trembling and almost fell down when she tried to use her left leg. Nori couldn't care less about her pain. All that mattered was Kili, and getting her to safety. 

Nori picked up the girl, heavy from her armor yet no burden at all, and traced back his steps to go meet his brother. He felt the elf follow him more than he heard her, though she was not steady enough to be perfectly silent. When they joined Ori, they found Bilbo had returned with Oin who was inspecting Fili closely. The old dwarf did not look hopeful, but at least the prince was not yet dead. 

“Got more work for you,” Nori announced, carefully putting down Kili next to her brother. “The elf said she did something already but you'll want to have another look.”

Oin’s eyes met the elf’s, and something passed between them, some form of understanding that Nori couldn't quite share. 

“Can't do much for them here,” Oin lamented. “let's bring them down to the valley, at least they'll be sheltered there. Tell me, my lady, are there any chance to find the King's herb around this mountain?”

The elf startled at being called so, and Nori was no less surprised by the old dwarf’s respectful tone when Oin rarely bothered to respect anyone. 

“I have never before walked in the shadows of Erebor,” the elf answered. “I do not know the plants that grow here, if any survived Smaug’s evil. But if we are lucky, some of the people of Esgaroth brought it with them to feed what few animals survived.”

“Hm? I feared that. These folks might still be enemies, no one knows where we stand now. Well lads, let's carry these two home. They should die in their own halls at least. And you my lady, go back to your people, get that leg cared for and…”

“No, that I cannot do,” she whispered. “I was banished for following you to Esgaroth. There is no place for me to go now.”

Her voice had been too low for Oin’s hearing, so Nori quickly signed at him what she had said. 

“Too bad for them,” he grumbled. “You'll come with us then. You've earned it.”

Nori wanted to protest that Thorin would  _ never  _ have wanted an elf to join his people, least of all a Mirkwood elf, but he remembered in time that Thorin might have died already while they were looking for his niblings, and that Oin was of much nobler blood than himself. What he decided, only Dain or Balin might undo now.

The journey back down from Raven Hill was slow and precarious. The path had probably never been an easy one, but in the aftermath of this battle, carrying bodies while themselves injured, it was a hard track. Still they made it, and in the valley they met with Dain’s dwarves who offered their help, taking the princelings from them, one of them even offering the elf maid to rest a hand on their shoulder for the walk to Erebor. The truce was still ongoing, for a little while at least. 

The princelings were brought into the mountain, to the main entrance still glittering with melted gold and littered with debris. There a campment had been established for men, elves and dwarves alike, so both the survivors of the dragon's wrath and those who had lived through the battle might have shelter from the cold night. The races still kept fairly separated, the wariness palatable between them, still there was hope. 

Fili and Kili were put to rest near their uncle. All three of them were pale as death, but no more than some others Nori had seen passing through the halls. Oin set to work immediately, requesting the elf’s help and advice, sending Bofur to see if he could find healing herbs. Ori too made himself useful, fetching water and clean rags to wash the wounds, helped in this by Bilbo. Seeing them all so busy, Nori stepped back, uncertain what to do. He'd learned long ago to sew closed a gash, or to take care of a sprained ankle, because these were skills a poacher and a spy always needed, but in front of such pain as there was all around him, he was out of his depth. The moans and cries, the stench of blood and early infection, the sight of Thorin’s face so pale and unmoving, everything was getting to him and making him want to fly away. 

“Nori, come here a moment and help me,” Dori called him. “We're trying to cook something, we need all the hands we can get.”

Having something to do, some way to help, was such a relief that Nori forgot to put on a show and pretend it annoyed him to obey his brother. Dori must have noticed it because he gave his orders more gently than usual. 

By the time all the dwarves had been fed, night had fallen and stars had risen, the royal family's state was stabilised, and Nori was so exhausted that he could only fall where Dori led him, allowing darkness to possess him.

 

Nori was up again before dawn, his sleep plagued by so many horrors he could not rest. It was a blessing he could not remember his nightmares, although reality gave him some idea of what they must have contained. All he had to do was look at Thorin, pale and unmoving… 

At this early hour, Thorin and his niblings were guarded only by Bilbo and Tauriel. The hobbit looked as restless as Nori felt, and must also have have been tortured by evil dreams of his friends’ fall, while the elf probably did not need any sleep as did most of her kind. Nori sat with them, and none of them exchanged a single word. After a second or an eternity, they were joined also by Ori. 

Sweet, little Ori who now looked too old for his years, and yet still so young as he gently removed hair from Fili’s face. Nori envied him that gesture, something he could not, dared not do, this tenderness that now more than ever was forbidden to him. In Ered Luin he had dreamt sometimes of a softer life, one where he would be allowed to fall in love, but Erebor would never allow this. 

Even if he should live, Thorin was now lost to him. 

For the first time in years, Nori wished he could cry, in hope that might appease the pain. 

Instead he took Ori in his arms, holding him tight. It was a comfort to him, a reminder he would not be alone, even if Thorin would never again be held by him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili is alive, mostly well, and trying to handle things.

There was pain, and light, and little else. Sometimes the pain was stronger, others the light overcame. When at last Kili could open her eyes, the two forces had met a certain balance within her. She was alive still, by some miracle she couldn't understand. 

She also wasn't alone. 

Tauriel was there, sitting at her side, peacefully talking with Oin. It was Esgaroth all over again then. Maybe she had never left the city on the lake and everything since that had been but a dream, a nightmare born from the leftover orkish poison. 

“Water,” she begged, her voice cracking. “Please?”

Tauriel started and stared down at her, something strange in her eyes, something almost wild and scared. Oin was calmer, and brought a bowl of water to her parched lips. He didn't let her take more than two gulps before he removed the bowl, checking she could swallow easily before letting her have more. By the time the water was drunk, Tauriel was more composed, and Kili found the strength to lift herself on her elbows and look around her. Her brother was lying near her, and her uncle near him, both of them still as the stone. 

“They are alive,” Tauriel told her. “Your king awoke for a short while not one hour ago. His wounds were serious but there was no infection and with each passing moment, we have less fear for his life.”

“I saw Fili fall,” Kili said, closing her eyes as she tried to forget that image of her brother. “And Azog stabbed him, and…”

“We found him still alive, and for now he survives. But we do not know yet if he can truly be saved, or if we are only prolonging his agony. And even if he survives, he may never again be the same.”

Kili looked at her brother, how he was barely breathing. His body had been covered with a sheet, but she still could see hints of sharp, unnatural angles in his legs. 

“Both broken,” Oin told her. “There's a bit of infection in the left one so we might have to amputate if it can't be stopped. I'm not sure he's got an unbroken rib in his body, and there's a good deal of internal bleeding. But others have survived worse than that in the battles for Khazad Dum, and I won't give up on him yet.”

“And Thorin?”

“He killed Azog. It almost cost him his life, but I'm sure he'd have gladly paid that price. He'll make it. He's too stubborn to die now.”

Kili nodded quietly. It was just impossible for Thorin to die. The rest of them might be mortal, but her uncle was a fixed point in all their lives. 

“You should lie down and sleep some more,” Oin advised with a point of worry in his voice. “It's been some rough weeks for you, and yesterday was rougher than all. Rest is the best medicine for you.”

It seemed a good idea, Kili’s eyelid so heavy they were already trying to close. She all but fell back down, and was asleep almost instantly. 

There were two constants after this: each time she woke up she was a little less in pain; each time she woke up, Tauriel was at her side. Kili soon guessed that these two facts were linked, and in this she was right. Tauriel had turned herself into a healer for all the dwarves and men present, but the royal family had her special attention, and she always seemed to know when the princess was about to regain consciousness. Oin called it elvish magic. Kili privately thought it had to be love, and perhaps the two were not so different. What she felt for Tauriel was so strong it almost scared her, it was so different from anything she'd felt before, but it wasn't an unpleasant fear. At least, it was more pleasant than to see her uncle whose mind was getting worse as his body got better, or thinking of Fili who still wouldn't wake up, whose leg might still have to be amputated. 

After a few days, Kili was allowed to walk a little on her own. And if she was well enough to stand, she was well enough to work. At first she only helped a little with cooking and washing bandages, as did most of the recovering wounded. But one afternoon, a little over a week after the battle, Dain summoned her. He'd made camp in front of the dragon's hoard, Bard sharing his quarters to better protect the treasure and signal that the alliance forged during the battle was still standing. With Thorin still too often in shock, Dain was currently in charge of the dwarven side of this business, but he had no true legitimacy to rule over Erebor as long as his cousins lived - nor did he want it.  And this was why he needed Kili.

It was uncomfortable enough, standing so near this enormous pile of gold. Kili couldn't figure how Dain could bear it, knowing how much blood tainted this gold, and how it had almost ruined Thorin’s mind. Dragon gold was a cursed thing, stories said, and nothing good ever came of it… but what choice did they have? This was their past and future both, they couldn't abandon it or Smaug would still have won. 

“Come sit here, lass,” Dain ordered, breaking her train of thought to show her a space at his right. “How's your uncle today?”

“Oin let him sit up for a bit. He still doesn't breathe too well though, they think that might be permanent because the lung was touched.” Dain gave her a sharp look and she sighed. “He still doesn't speak when he's awake, no. But Nori got him to sign a little, and he asked after everyone else, so that's encouraging.”

“Does he know for Fili?”

“We told him Fili survived but cannot move for now. Oin feels that until there's change in one way or another, it's better not to burden him with too many details. He feels guilty enough already.”

So did Kili herself. If Fili hadn't gone alone, if she'd gone in his place, if they hadn't gone at all…

“If course you realise this makes you princess regent of Erebor until one of them is well enough to rule, if they ever are,” Dain noted, and though his voice had been gentle, Kili jumped as if he'd been shouting. 

“I thought you were regent,” she protested. “Aren't you the one deciding everything for now? And you're old and already a king, so… “

“I took care of things until one of you could handle it, lass, and now there's you.”

Kili’s heart sped up in a way it never had before orcs and monsters, and something cold crept up from her chest to her entire body. 

“But I'm stupid,” she protested. “Ask anyone, ask Balin! I can't even take care of myself, and I'm so stupid I didn't see trolls steal ponies under my nose!”

“You are a princess, lass,” Dain retorted severely. “Like it or not, ready or not, you have a duty to your people! Or do you fancy the life of Men's kings, always taking from their people and never giving anything in return, not even their attention?” Seeing Kili starting to tremble, his manner softened somewhat. “You won't be without help, lass. I am staying here until spring, and your uncle's company will serve you as they served him.”

Kili nodded weakly, trying to remember how to breathe. Failing. It was the arrow's infection all over again, she was trembling as if from cold and yet sweating.

Without false modesty, Kili knew her value. She was a good warrior, a decent musician and smith, but she was not, could never be a leader. She didn't have the head for it, nor the heart. Maybe she really should have gone instead of Fili, back in the tower, because he was the leader between them, always had been, but now he was dying because he'd tried to protect her, and that just wasn't fair. 

“I don't know how to do it,” she mumbled, her voice almost breaking. Then, fearing her cousin's disdain and anger, she straightened up and forced her voice into steadiness. “I will do my best, and I'll learn on the way… but I don't know the first thing about being in charge. You've got the wrong sibling for that.”

“You'll have to do, lass,” Dain replied, patting her shoulder. “You're all we've got anyway.”

 

Ruling, it turned out, was somewhat boring. For Kili, it mostly meant coming every morning to sit with Dain, and spend her day at his side while he sorted the new problems that kept arising. There were still the wounded to care for, but it had been decided that work should begin to clean out the debris within Erebor. Dain and Bard had determined that men and dwarves would spend the winter underground and do as much repair as they could there, and that in spring, work would begin in Dale. Some humans were not too happy with this decision, and not a day passed without someone protesting against it, but in the end no one had a better plan to offer. For all the damage it had sustained, Erebor was still in a better state than Dale, and it had been designed so warmth was easy to maintain within its halls.

Food was another issue. Dain had ordered that provisions be sent from the Iron Hills, but his kingdom wasn't as rich as it had once been, and he could not starve his people for the sake of Erebor. Fast growing mushroom spores were sent, along with breeding crickets, but even with this and what few presents the elves agreed to send, there was a need for careful rationing. 

Added to this were the everyday problems of any community, made worse with the presence of two groups so different in needs and beliefs. People argued over everything, and everyone was bringing their petty disputes to Dain and Bard, acting as if nothing in the world was more important than to know who had true ownership of a pair of socks. 

Every morning, she woke up with Tauriel at her side, and they exchanged a few quick words. Every evening, an exhausted Kili returned to her family. First she visited her brother, who got to keep his leg in the end, but still didn't fully wake up. Most of the time she found Ori already there, telling Fili about his day, or trying to make him drink some light broth. Kili was glad to have him taking care of her brother, and knowing what she knew, it gave her hope Fili might live. If not, then the Maker was as cruel as the Dark Lord of the East. 

Once she'd made sure her brother had not returned to the stone, Kili always visited her uncle. He still did not speak, nor did he appear to have much sense left, and it worried everyone except his niece. Seeing him help Bombur cook, or Dori mend socks, or Bifur repair a pickaxe, it reminded her of home, and how happy Thorin was sometimes when all he had to do were those simple tasks, things that any dwarf might have done in their own house. She'd never understood why he would find more joy in this than in play fight or in retelling his great travels. After two weeks at Dain’s side, she was finally starting to see why. 

She thought she could understand his silence too. Thorin’s wound of the body had been nearly deadly, but it had been his spirit that had taken the worst of it. She liked to think he was so quiet among them only because his mind was working so hard at healing itself. The others might think him mad, but she knew better. 

“He came back to us a first time,” she often told the company. “He'll return from this too.”

“He's not even gone so far,” Nori added one time. “He's never far from us of his company, and he's never falling asleep unless there's one of the twelve people he can trust near him. And we're the only ones he signs too. Even Dain he ignores.”

It surprised Kili that Nori had noticed it too. Of all the company… but Fili had told her once that Nori and Thorin knew each other better than they showed, and had worked together often when their uncle was away from Ered Luin. And wasn't it Nori who had first managed to exchange a few signs with Thorin? There was a bit of a mystery there, but not one Kili wanted to uncover, not until they were all better, and she was less busy with a role that wasn't hers. 

“I'm starting to see better why you're always so grumpy,” she told him one night as they were mending clothes in a corner of the kitchen. “Being king is even worse than I thought. I can see why you'd always find reasons to go away, if people were like that back home too.”

Thorin looked up from the tunic in his hands and stared blankly at her. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to imply you were not doing your duty,” Kili quickly apologised. “But between having to take care of a whole people all day, and then coming home to hear me and Fili complain also… no one could blame you for wanting some quiet. I don't know how you didn't get angry at us more often, honest.”

It was half a joke and all the truth. She remembered herself at thirty, at forty, at sixty even, an impatient brat who never stop moving and would constantly demand Thorin’s attention when he was home, even on days he was tired, which was almost every single one. She remembered Fili also, fighting against his lessons, threatening to run away if people didn't let him become a musician, until one day she'd realised he wasn't protesting quite so much, and his violin started gathering dust while he took notes at meetings. She wasn't sure when Fili had given up and accepted to grow into an adult. She was even less sure she'd ever managed to do it too, should she try. 

Fabric slipped through Thorin’s fingers without him noticing. He was watching at his niece as if he had never seen her before. Eventually, shaky hands started signing:  _ I have many regrets, but not the time spent with you and Fili. You kept me alive on my darkest days, and all I did in return was to send you both to your death. _

His eyes were shining with barely contained tears, and he leaned hesitantly toward his niece before moving slightly away. Kili knew what she had to do. She launched himself into his arms, holding him close and allowing herself to cry freely. She could not see her uncle's face, but she felt and heard his sobs. She'd always believed that Thorin must have wished he didn't so often have to take care of his niblings, that she (and, to a lesser extent , Fili) was responsible for his being away so often, that guarding caravans and going to work in the villages of men was more restful to him than his own home. 

Maybe this was growing up, she briefly wondered: realising that Thorin would leave not because of, but in spite of them. 

For a few minutes they remained in each other's arms, until at last the tears subsided. There was a slight whistling to Thorin breath when he took up his work again, as happened now every time his lungs were asked too much. Nobody in the kitchen seemed to have noticed their moment of emotion, or they were just too polite to mention it. Either way Thorin and Kili finished their pile of mending quickly, just in time for supper. 

That night, it was mushroom stew and roasted crickets, which was a changed from the more common fried crickets and mushrooms. Thanks to a lucky find by a group of workers, everyone was also given a large spoonful of honey, though most of it was reserved for cleaning wounds. Kili decided to enjoy her share slowly to make it last as long as possible, even though Tauriel had half promised to get her more later. She was almost halfway through when she saw Ori run into the room, looking left and right with a frenzied air until his eyes fell on her and he froze. 

Kili’s spoon fell to the ground. 

“Fili’s dead,” she choked, the idea nearly making her sick. She'd have collapsed if not for Thorin at her side, holding her up. 

But Ori shook his head and smiled, his eyes shining. 

“He's not dead. He finally woke up.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori carries a secret, and it concerns Fili

Word had spread quickly in Erebor that Thorin’s heir was alive. Another rumour quickly followed though, one that was shared only through hushed whispers: the crown prince’s back had been broken and he would never walk again. The humans seemed  _ particularly  _ sorry for him. They offered their condolences to Kili many times, and to Thorin too, making it sound as if Fili were dead rather than disabled. Ori could barely refrain his rage each time he heard one of them talk about what a great king Fili  _ would  _ have made, as if he’d returned to the stone already when they were now certain at last that he would survive.

“It is the way of men,” Dori told him when he complained one day. “They are… different from us. I think they do not feel the suffering of their own kind the way we do, nor their joy. Because their lives are so short, they cannot have feelings as deep as we do. When one of their one no longer seems useful to them, they treat them as dead, or even kill them. They think it’s an act of mercy.”

This notion of mercy left Ori uneasy for the rest of the afternoon. He was glad when at last the time came for Dori to go take care of Fili and he got to tag along. Seeing the prince lying on furs, awake and  _ alive  _ was still such a relief, even after nearly a month, and he couldn’t help but smile. Fili smiled back. He always did.

“How are you tonight?” Dori asked, settling down near the prince. “Do your arms hurt?”

“They are tense, but they don't exactly hurt. Everything just feels like I trained too hard yesterday and I can't relax.”

“The usual then. I'll check on you to make sure there are no sore points, and then we'll do some stretching. Ori, turn around now.”

With a smile he couldn't refrained, Ori obeyed. Even with what his brother knew… and it wasn't as if they hadn't all bathed together on the way to Erebor, too. He knew what everyone in the company looked like in the nude, and yet Dori still pretended that propriety was a necessity. 

“What are the news?” Fili asked him. He asked every day as eagerly, partly because it frustrated him that he couldn't help, partly to distract himself from Dori undressing him and closely inspecting his naked body. “Are you still helping the cleaning effort?”

“Not exactly. Balin has sent me to look for the old royal books of account. We used to act as a bank for some people of Dale, he wants to see how much they had entrusted us with so it can be returned.”

“Doesn't that sound exciting.”

Ori turned and stuck his tongue out at the prince. 

He half wished he hadn't. It was always a shock to see Fili’s body. He had lost a lot of mass during his long sleep. Even after a month of careful attention, he still seemed to be wasting away, his bones far too visible under his skin. He didn't eat so much these days no matter how much they all pleaded with him, and forced immobility was starting to affect his limbs’ shape. And then there were the scars. 

Or to be honest, The Scars. The one Azog had left on him, first of all. Now, from the front, it wasn't too obvious, not much bigger than other marks life had left on Fili’s skin. But Ori knew what it looked like from the back, a wide gray depression on brown skin surrounded by mounds and valleys were the tissue had not managed to heal well, and he knew from Oin that with this wound alone, Fili’s mobility would have been damaged. Then there was another mark on the prince's left leg, inflicted by his own bone when it pierced through his leg as a result of his terrible fall. Ori couldn't look at it without remembering the terrible colour it had taken when infected, the smell, the fear that amputation might be their only option while also further endangering Fili… 

“I told you to look away,” Dori scolded him. “I'll think you're just as deaf as Oin! But fine, since you can't take your eyes away, come closer and help me. I'm sorry Fili, we need to turn you over.”

The prince didn't answer, but instead made an effort to lift his arms towards Ori who immediately embraced him, blushing only slightly at the warmth of naked skin. Dori and him carefully turned Fili on his stomach, and Dori started his inspection.  This time Ori didn't have to be told to look away; just the thought of the great scar was enough to make him avert his eyes, and gaze instead at Fili’s face. 

“Hey there, handsome,” Fili said with a wink. “Couldn't help but see you staring. Come here often?”

“I'm a regular, yes. But you should know I'm here with my husband, so don't try anything funny.”

They both blushed, while Dori chuckled softly. 

“Well, your husband is a lucky dwarf,” Fili whispered with such tenderness than Ori couldn't handle it.

“I'm the luckier of the two, no question there.”

They smiled at each other, and Ori begged the Maker to let them be always like this. It had been such a romantic idea to get married secretly on the eve of the battle, with only Kili and Dori as witnesses. It was the stuff of stories… but Ori knew such stories rarely ended well. It didn't help that they knew little of each other before the quest, or that they rarely had time for deep conversations during it… but what little happened had been enough for Ori to know he was in love, and Fili appeared as convinced. 

But who knew how things would be in one year, in ten, in fifty? Fili wouldn't be the first noble dwarf to fall in his youth for a commoner, only to regret it at his first hundred. And even if their current attachment lasted, Ori knew that people would think he had seduced the prince and married him by interest, that Fili would be seen as a fool for getting trapped that way. 

“Whatever you're thinking, stop,” Fili said. “Instead, tell me about everyone. How is Thorin?”

Ori shrugged. Who knew how Thorin was? His silence confused them all, even if he was now more likely to use signs to communicate. Kili said he was better, that they even chatted sometimes… but Ori couldn’t say that to his husband, not when Thorin hadn’t come to visit his nephew once. Out of guilt for nearly getting him killed, the whole company suspected, but it was obvious Fili feared to have disappointed him somehow.

He always feared that.

“How are things for Kili and her elf then?” Fili insisted,wincing slightly as Dori pressed too hard in a place where he still had feeling.

“They don't get much time together,” Ori replied. “Kili is always busy, and Tauriel is always helping Oin… but they look at each other  _ a lot _ . Kili is trying to see if Dain could spare her for a few hours so they could go hunting together. Tauriel says there are plenty of rabbits around and they aren't very fearful at all. She thinks it's because no predators dared to live do near the dragon, but rabbits were just not big enough to interest him.”

“I miss hunting.”

Fili looked away, his already too thin face made longer by sadness and longing. Ori did not know what to answer. He squeezed his husband's hand tightly, hoping that would be enough comfort. 

“You'll hunt again someday,” Dori promised, startling them a little. They always forgot he was there. “I've seen dwarves in a worse state than you use a bow. You'll be surprised by all you can still do in time if you're stubborn enough… And since you've crossed half the world to come fight a dragon, I don't think stubbornness will be an issue for you.”

“I thought you'd worked in men's town only?” Fili noted. 

“Well, when I helped men I did it for money, so yes. But I have helped more dwarves than men, and I never asked for a coin.”

That was Ori’s oldest memory, actually. Being on Dori’s back, going to somebody's house and watch his brother stretch and bend some dwarf’s legs and arms or giving them a massage just to help the blood keep flowing everywhere. Dori had picked up the skill taking care of his father in Erebor, but it was after the battles for Khazad Dum that he had really been needed. And it was true that he'd never asked any dwarves to pay him… but Ori remembered small presents, people going out of their ways to come to their mother's shop, and he suspected that if Nori had been forgiven so much, if he'd been caught so little, it was because so many guards had a debt to Dori. 

Well, that and the fact that Nori had slept with Thorin at least once. Ori had heard his brothers having an argument about that once, some years ago, and he'd never forgotten. 

“Today we will focus on your arms and on grabbing things, with just do some quick stretches for your legs,” Dori offered. “And if you don't work hard enough, I won't let Ori stay with you when I leave.”

The boys smiled. Dori could pretend to be as tough as he liked, he was too soft hearted to do that to them. 

When they were finally left alone, Fili and Ori shared a dinner of lukewarm stew and cold rabbit meat. It wasn't much, but no feast could have compared to this moment alone. Maybe things would last, and this fragile happiness would endure for many years, or maybe they would separate someday and go their separate ways. Either way, Ori was certain that he would never forget these evenings together, this tender peace in the middle of tragedy.

“You barely ate anything,” Ori grumbled when Fili demanded cuddles, and he hated how much he sounded like Dori. “You'll never get better if you keep that up!” The prince rolled his eyes and smiled, but his eyes were shining too much, his lips stretched too thin. “Are you ok?”

“I'm fine. It's just hard to find a good position. Just come here and I’ll be fine”

Ori didn’t insist then, instead lying down next to his husband, as close as he could, letting Fili put a still clumsy arm on his waist. They kissed for a while, slow and tender and comfortable and Ori ached for more, ached for so many things he didn’t know yet if they might have someday, things they wouldn’t try until Fili’s state was stable enough, but Ori wished…

“Wait, stop,” Fili said, pulling away as much as he could. Ori froze, terrified he’d done something wrong, that he’d shown too much of that desire burning in him, until he noticed the tremors in Fili’s legs. “Fuck, I just… it happens almost every day now.”

“Can I do something to…”

“Oin says it’s more likely to happen when I need to… make water,” Fili mumbled, his face slowly turning crimson. “It’s my fault, I didn’t think I needed to when Dori was there, but now…”

Ori too was blushing now. One option was to go look for Dori, but he might be anywhere with how many people needed his help, and by the time he was found Fili might have… had an accident.

“I can help with that,” he offered. “If you guide me through it…” his blushed deepened. 

“You shouldn't have to do that,” Fili protested, refusing to look at him. “Nobody should have to help me with that, but you least of all.”

It did not surprise Ori so much to see Fili frustrated at needed help for something so basic and intimate. Ori certainly wouldn't like it, so someone as proud as a prince… 

And it was true that this wasn't what Ori had imagined life with Fili would be. But in fairness, he had married the prince fully expecting one of them to die the following day, so to still be alive together was a miracle he fully intended to enjoy. So what if Fili couldn't walk, and he needed help for more things that most? He was still Fili, kind and funny and infuriatingly proud sometimes, loyal to a fault, who always had a supportive word for those he loved, and still so many other things that made him who he was and meant that Ori’s heart still clenched when the prince smiled at him. 

“Marriage is about helping each other,” Ori said. “I'd be happy to help you if you want me to.”

“Thank you. I… really, thank you. But I think for today, I'd prefer if you went to get Dori. I've got to keep some mystery, you know?”

Fili smiled, looking almost as careless as he had been before. Ori could only smile back, even knowing that the carelessness was most likely a facade. 

“Fine, I'll let you be as mysterious as an elf then,” Ori sighed dramatically, planting a kiss on his husband's cheek before quickly getting getting on his legs to fetch Dori. Because this, at least, he could easily do to help his husband. 

 

* * *

 

In the end, Dori was in the main halls, having dinner with the company. Ori whispered to his ear what the problem was and his brother got up immediately to go help. Ori’s intention had been to go back with him, but Nori grabbed his arm and forced him to sit with them.

“I hardly see you these days,” he complained. “Always off working or helping Dori with the princeling… I'll start thinking he's your favourite brother now, poor me.”

The rest of the company laughed, even Thorin smiled, but Ori only managed an awkward grin. He wasn't sure how much Nori knew, how much he guessed. What he was sure of, on the other hand, was that his brother had always laughed at his mischief, not matter how big or dangerous, but had frequently ranted at him against the idea of falling for someone of a higher rank, as if that were the only crime he could comprehend. Nobles were not people like them, and getting attached to them was foolish, he'd always say. He'd be furious to learn just how attached Ori had gotten… 

Yet at the same time, in spite of whatever heartbreak Thorin had once inflicted upon him, Nori was still following him, had still risked everything for him. Maybe he would understand how Ori felt… There was something about Thorin that made you want to dare everything for his approval, something the whole company had felt, even Bilbo, and Fili had inherited some of that power. Even back in Ered Luin, Fili had been well liked by all those who knew him, so who could blame Ori for falling in love, like dozens others? 

“It's not my fault you're always busy,”Ori retorted as lightly as he could. “And I'm sorry that it's more fun to go with Dori to see Fili, who is a  _ lot  _ prettier than you.”

Everyone laughed again. But for a split second, Ori saw something in his brother's eyes, something like like curiosity and suspicion and maybe some pain also. It had always been a simple joke, but until now Ori had systemically called him his favourite. He felt sorry that he might have hurt Nori. He was sorrier still that he was scared to share something so close and personal to someone he had always felt capable of hearing his deepest secrets. 

He hoped that when the truth became known, Nori wouldn't hate him too much. 

Someone made a joke then, about Nori's beauty fading, and Nori joked back defending himself by claiming that even if he reached three hundred, he'd still be prettier than all the rest of the company. Ori laughed with the others, trying not to think of the pain his betrayal might cause someday. 

He did not notice that Thorin had had his eyes on him the whole time, his face more curious and lively than it had been in weeks. If he had, it might have scared him even more than Nori's opinion ever could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so, uh, I tried to read up on paraplegia to write this chapter, and I hope I did okay. If there's anything that seems inaccurate to you, or if I accidentally wrote up anything ableist, please do tell me so I can correct it and do better next time.
> 
> Fili is definitively going to have a pov chapter later on btw, I just wasn't sure how to handle this early stage of things for him without being overly dramatic, and my point in this fic would be to celebrate survival and all so... yeah


End file.
